I used to write poetry.
Back when my life was more dream-like,
And the only way to capture the essence of my learning was with a poem.
And then at some point my feet rooted firmly into the ground,
And the world lost a bit of its shimmer.
But its hard not to see it in the springtime,
And as the cherry trees blossom and the sweet smell of poplar leaves wafts through the air,
I’m beginning to see the shimmer in my day-to-day again.
I’m beginning to search for the magic,
To remember the magic.
Because life isn’t dull at all actually,
It only becomes dull from time to time when a set of eyes get weary and learn to miss the magic.